First Block: A Mathematical Felony
by Pokepika's Haunt
Summary: Edward Elric might not be the most law-abiding teacher you've ever had, but he's still the best by far.


I haven't seen Fullmetal Alchemist since I was like… twelve, but I saw this on tumblr and I… just had to. I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry. This had to be written, even at the cost of my quickly diminishing sanity. Philosophy-and-Coffee gave me the idea, but is being a poopy head and not letting me put the link in.

So check out my tumblr instead at Pikab119, there's a link to their blog and the post itself there as well. You can also find this on deviantart should I be told to take this down for any reason.

 **Summary:** _You can almost hear the collective wince you and your classmates make as you watch your professor toss the book out an open window, slamming his hands down onto the desk and eying you all with a look not unlike what you might find on a particularly carnivorous animal._

 _Or the_ _ **devil.**_ _"I can_ prove _that soul alchemy isn't unviable. ―Someone hand me some chalk. I'm about to commit a mathematical felony!"_

 **WARNING!** This is technically an AU of FMA: Brotherhood (of which I probably should refresh myself on and _fast_ ), and is told largely from the perspective of an OC.

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 **First Block: A Mathematical Felony**

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"This is definitely wrong." You hear from your seat in the center of the auditorium and are almost immediately awakened from your half-doze across your desk ―a middling, scholarly man easily old enough to be your grandfather standing at the front like a pig to slaughter with a single, particularly hefty textbook clutched in his and an expression like someone just murdered his entire family in front of him.

 _Sheep_ , some part of your mind that sounds suspiciously like your roommate spits, taking in the hunched shoulders and shaking knees ―and you're almost immediately reminded of the other twenty or so students who didn't make the cut that first month.

" _Good morning, and welcome to Battle Alchemy." A man with blonde hair longer than any woman's you've ever seen greets, and you get the sudden feeling that he is judging you, measuring your worth despite the almost kind look on his face. "My name is Edward Elric, you may call me Professor Elric, or Fullmetal, if you prefer… and I have a deal for you all."_

 _Almost instantly, the kind look is gone, replaced by something that makes you bristle down to your very core without quite understanding why. "Beat me in hand-to-hand combat, and you pass."_

Even now, looking back on those weeks, the deal sounds simple. Except that in practice it is anything _but,_ though it certainly weeded out those of your classmates who didn't have the guts to stick it out.

You won't admit aloud either, how close you were to being one of them.

" _You're stubborn," You glare at those words, utterly insulted despite knowing the truth of the statement._

 _It's the only reason you're still around, after all. Even after your sister quit with all the grace of a goddamn train wreck._

 _You don't like to lose, even when you know you've already been beaten, but you hate the taste of giving up even more. And at this point? It's less about the passing grade and more about just proving everyone else wrong._

 _"Hey now, I like that look in your eyes, but maybe save it for when you aren't eating dirt there." Prof. Elric laughs, and despite knowing that its aimed at you, you somehow_ don't _feel like it's aimed at you. "Now I appreciate stubbornness, God knows it's gotten me through quite a lot in life, but it won't do you any good if you're spending all the time you could be learning unconscious in the dirt."_

 _You don't remember how long it's been since someone pat you on the head, likely no one ever actually_ _ **has**_ _, but when your professor does it? A man only a few inches taller than you and a grand total of three years older at_ most _? The action doesn't feel nearly as insulting as it probably should. "Now up and at 'em soldier, I know you can punch harder than that. I just used you last week to knock Michael on his ass, and he outweighs you by at least a hundred pounds."_

" _Yes sir!"_

"―But, ah… Sir?"

"What?"

"Th-this is the most recently updated textbook for theoretical alchemy―"

"Yeah," Edward, hedges with all the grace and subtlety of a runaway train. The man's not even pretending to be impressed, eying his simpering guest less like a fellow human being and more like an unimpressive stain on his nice shoes, or, and more likely now that you're thinking about this far too much; a particularly dimwitted two-year-old. "Fuck that."

You can almost hear the collective wince you and your classmates make as you watch your professor toss the book out an open window, slamming his hands down onto the desk and eying you all with a look not unlike what you might find on a particularly carnivorous animal.

Or the **devil**. "I can prove that soul alchemy isn't unviable. ―Someone hand me some chalk. I'm about to commit a mathematical felony!"

Somehow, even as you follow your classmates to stand against the walls on either side of you all, you don't think this is going to turn out like anyone expects, even your genius of a teacher.


End file.
